


Out of Time

by imthehumanembodimentofmyotp



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Major Character Injury, One Shot, im doing this for a contest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 10:42:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20505653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imthehumanembodimentofmyotp/pseuds/imthehumanembodimentofmyotp
Summary: Dean gets injured on a hunt, and things don't look good





	Out of Time

The blood was pounding in Dean’s ears as he ran. He could hear the wendigo behind him, he didn’t have much time before it caught up. Panting, he pushed himself further, forcing himself to go faster. If he could just make it back to the cabin, he’d be alright. It wasn’t much further now, he could see it up ahead. Then, he felt the wendigos sharp claws. He gasped as his side was split open, the blood flowing out. He kept running, despite the pain, and managed to make it inside the cabin.

The door slammed shut behind him, and Dean was finally able to relax. He took a deep breath and looked down at the wound he had just received. It was deep, the muscle torn and blood rushing freely down his side. He swore, and took his shirt off. Ripping it in lengths, he made a makeshift bandage and began rummaging through the cupboards for a first aid kit. 

The cabin was small, maybe 150 square feet at most. At one end, there was a small fireplace, with a chair and a loveseat facing the fire. At the other, there was a small kitchen that had an oven, a fridge, and a sink. The cupboards were devoid of anything that could attract wildlife, as the woods were no stranger to bears. 

After several minutes of frantic searching, Dean found no first aid kit. Swearing again, he went over to the loveseat. He sat down, wincing at the pain. His bandages were soaked through, he was bleeding worse than he had thought. He knew in his head that if he didn’t get help soon, he would never make it out of this cabin alive. Suddenly, an idea came to him and he fumbled in his pockets for his phone. He found the number he was looking for and dialed, listening to phone ring and praying he would pick up.

“Dean?” Castiel’s gruff voice came through the speakers, and Dean smiled despite himself. 

“Hey Cas. I’m in a bit of a situation here. I need help, soon. I was on a hunt, Sammy and I got separated, and I got a little hurt. This wendigo won’t go away, I can’t leave. Bring a flamethrower. I’m in the woods just outside Lebanon, please get here fast.” He winced as he shifted and a fresh wave of pain shot up his side.

“I’m on my way.” Cas hung up the phone, and Dean was left waiting. His thoughts kept drifting in and out of focus, and he knew Cas might be too late despite the fact he was undoubtedly going as fast as he could. Unfortunately, Cas had lost his powers a few months back, after he had fallen with the rest of the angels. Sam would be fine, Dean knew that. He had Ezekiel to keep him safe.

Dean kept his hand to his side, not daring to take pressure off of his wound no matter how much it hurt. The loveseat was soaked in his blood by now, and he wished Cas would hurry. With that thought, he finally heard tires screech outside and the unmistakable sound of Cas’s truck. He saw light outside and heard screams as the wendigo burned. He smiled to himself. Cas was always there for him, and his bravery in the face of danger was almost amusing. The door burst open, and a worried Cas looked frantically about the cabin. He spotted Dean, and nearly ran across the room to him. 

“Hey angel.” Dean’s voice was weak, weaker than he wanted it to be. The world was drifting in and out of focus, and Dean was struggling to keep Cas in view. Cas tried to move Dean’s hands to see the wound, but Dean pushed his hands away. He knew it was too late, he had lost too much blood at this point. “Don’t. There’s no point.” Cas realized what was happening, and tears started forming in his eyes.

“Dean, please, you have to let me help.” Cas fought the lump in his throat, and ignored the fact that his voice was cracking more than usual. 

“No, Cas, it’s too late. You tried your best, it was just too late for me. I’m proud of you.” He looked at Cas, and took one hand off his still bleeding side. “Look, Cas, there’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you.” He took a deep, shuddering breath, and fought to keep Cas in focus. 

“I’m in love with you. I have been since the apocalypse. I knew when you got me back from that time Zachariah put me into the future. And I know I should have told you a long time ago, but I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you. But then we went to purgatory and I thought you were gone forever. Now you’re just as human as I am, and there’s no time like the present.” Dean finished, and moved a blood-stained hand to Cas’s face. He used his thumb to wipe a tear away. Cas had started crying, silently hoping that Dean could read his mind. “I love you, angel. I love you so much. And I’m so so sorry.” He pulled Cas’s face down, and kissed him gently. His last thought was that Cas’s lips were softer than they looked, and then his world went black.

Cas pulled away when Dean’s hand fell and he stopped kissing him. The tears were falling greely now, creating tracks on his face. At least he was able to make Dean’s last moments happy. He straightened up, and looked around. Seeing a blanket, he placed it over Dean’s body before leaving the cabin. All he knew was that he had to find Sam, he has to tell him that- He couldn’t even think it yet.

A few hours later, Sam and Cas were working to cut down some nearby trees and build a pyre. A hunter’s funeral, the one Dean had always known was waiting for him. Both were crying silently, for different yet similar reasons. Cas was only thinking of what Dean had said as he worked, venting all his sadness and frustration into the logs. 

As they stood in front of the blazing fire, Cas had an idea. He walked as close to the fire as he could stand, and whispered so Sam wouldn’t hear.

“I love you too Dean. Always have, always will. I’m sorry I was too late. I’ll take care of Sam, and I’ll think about you every day. I’ll visit in heaven when we get it open. Thank you for everything.” And with that, he turned and walked away, got into his truck, and went back to the bunker. His world felt empty, but he had a mission, a promise he had made to a dead man. And he intended to keep it.


End file.
